A Touch that Never Hurts
by Protected by a Silver Spoon
Summary: Emma finds Hatter to be a bit more vulnerable than we've been shown.


Emma had found him stumbling around barefoot in the woods.

"Jefferson?"

He spun and stared wide eyed at her. "Ha! Emma! Lovely of you to join me!" He stumbled as he caught his foot on a root. "Bit nippy out tonight, dontcha think?"

She watched as he half danced and half tripped around her. It was bound to be a bad night for him, Henry had told her that Paige had brought cupcakes to school to celebrate her birthday. "Yeah, it is cold. Let's head inside, I'll have some tea with you."

"Wonderful! Follow me then!"

Emma followed close behind him as he clumsily pranced toward the light shining from the kitchen door he had left wide open.

In the light of the kitchen Emma could see the leaves and sticks that had tangled in Jefferson's hair. Several bright red scratches stood out on his pale face and his bare feet were caked with mud. "How about we get you cleaned up first?"

Jefferson looked down at himself and frowned, "What an awful host…"

Emma watched him shaking his head and mumbling. "No, I invited myself. It's alright, I'll draw you a bath."

He glanced up at her and then back down to his feet, "That would be best, I don't think I can feel my toes."

Emma followed Jefferson to the bathroom and set about filling the tub. He stood and watched her from the doorway as she pulled out a towel and washcloth. "Alright it's all set, I'll wait for you downstairs."

"Um… Emma?" His voice was soft and not nearly as manic sounding as before, "I don't… can't… I don't trust myself… please stay with me?" He dropped his duster to the floor and tangled his fingers around his scarf.

Emma watched him, standing there struggling with the idea of baring his scarred neck to her but terrified to be alone. "I'll stay."

Jefferson nodded, pulled off his scarf and started unbuttoning his shirt, his fingers trembled. "It just all gets so jumbled sometimes…"

Emma took a step closer and took over with the buttons, "These buttons are small."

"No, in my head… thats where it jumbled." He shrugged off his shirt, yanked his pants down and walked past Emma to the tub. She couldn't take her eyes off of him as he lowered himself into the warm water.

He smirked at her, "Like what you see?"

Jefferson kept his eyes locked on hers as she tried to process what she had just seen. His entire back was covered in a criss cross of scars, pink, smooth lash marks piled one on top of another, they made their way from his shoulders to the back of his knees. "Jefferson…"

"Off with his head wasn't the last of her fun." He slid his head down under the water. When he came back up Emma was perched on the side of the tub holding a bottle of shampoo. Jefferson closed his eyes as she massaged his head. "I think that the lashes were the worst of it. Kept stinging for hours afterward."

"Lean back."

"There are burns on my sides, see?" He lifted his arm. "I've got all the suits, branded right on my ribs."

Emma rinsed the suds from his hair.

His fingers danced down his ribs and stopped on a thin scar beneath his sternum. "This was the last one." He gave a small smile as Emma swept the washcloth across his cheek. "There's really no way to describe the feeling of someone's hand playing with your insides." Emma finished his face and began to wash his back. "This is the first time anyone has touched me since."

Emma stopped and looked him in the eye. "What do you mean, 'the first time someone's touched you since'?"

"The last time another being had a hand on me it was touchy feely with my insides." He broke eye contact and Emma was speechless. He sat there for a minute in the silence. "Well, I'm getting all wrinkly." Jefferson hit the lever with his foot but stayed in the tub until the water had drained. He sat there naked, shivering in the empty bathtub. The sound of his teeth chattering forced Emma to move.

"Come here." She wrapped a towel around his shoulders and held his arm as he climbed out. After she had dried him off Emma ran her hand along his back, just barely touching him. He pulled in a sharp breath and turned to face her, as he did her hand came to rest right over the scar on his chest. Jefferson stood frozen still just staring at the hand on his chest, the way her palm covered the horrible memory, the way her fingers reached out to center him. Emma raised her other hand to touch the scar on his throat, softly tracing it until her palm rested on the back of his neck.

Jefferson dropped his head down, he fought to keep the tears form spilling over. "I should get some clothes." He grabbed Emma by the hand and pulled her after him down the hall. She watched as he pulled out a simple grey shirt and sweatpants. He looked up at her and then at their entwined hands. "This is going to sound odd… but could you just keep touching me? Just leave your hand on my shoulder, please?" He quickly pulled on his pants and shoved his feet into his slippers.

He sat on the unmade bed and looked down at his trembling hands. "I don't even know what my back looks like. I mean… I can feel it, you know, when I wash. I've never seen it. No one has."

"Jefferson… "

"I know it's bad. I never thought anyone would have to see it. I never thought anyone would." He pulled in a deep breath and let it out in a half sob. "And now it's Grace's birthday and all I can think about is how warm your hand feels on me and for the first time in over thirty years the person in the room with me is not taking pieces of me away. And I'm horrible, it's her birthday. It's her birthday and here I am, feeling things that are just about me."

He began to breath shallowly, "It's her birthday…" He pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes, "It's her birthday and I can't hold her." Tears fell as he tried in vain to catch his breath. But suddenly he was being pulled into a hug. The kind of warm caring embrace that had eluded him for over three decades, the kind of embrace that let you know somehow things would be alright, and, for Jefferson, it was the only thing that could have done anything for him. He could almost feel the stress of all the memories begin to slip away and the foreign feeling of being in contact with another person became the single lifeline he hadn't known he was missing.

"Shh… just breathe now Jefferson." Emma gently ran fingers through his hair. "You're not alone now." He buried his face in Emma's shoulder and fisted his hands in her shirt. The warm feeling of her body against his was enough to keep him anchored in the present. The gentle touch on his head was enough to keep the panicked thoughts at bay, at least for the moment


End file.
